


Soarin', Flyin' ... Jumpin'

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Athletes, M/M, Winter Olympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-16 20:53:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5840596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hey, seeing as it's the right season for it... what do you think about Kurt being a ski jumper (is it correct? ) and Blaine, of course, is his biggest fan? 
            </p></blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Pyeongchang is just around the corner.

Okay, Pyeongchang and the Winter Olympics are in two years, but it’s almost like tomorrow, and Kurt needs to be ready.

And if he wants to be considered for the official Olympics, he has to prove himself worthy in the Youth Olympics, which are, literally, tomorrow.

The U.S. have never won more than Bronze in Kurt’s discipline of choice, and it was one time. 

And Kurt will be damned if he doesn’t change this status quo.

Ski Jumping is about to see a new star, and it will be Kurt Hummel, goddammit.

Oh, he knows that the Europeans are watching him coming from a mile away, and giggling among themselves at the idea that, what, a _Yankee_ is trying to get on their turf?

Well, _this_ Yankee is going to try his damndest to show them that he is at least a serious contender.

Lillehammer, here he comes.

\---

Blaine is _stocked_ that he managed to convince his parents that he had to go to Norway for the Youth Olympics, under the cover of an internship he completely made up.

Well, “made up”--he definitely is going to write a report on it, and on the American team, and if his report focuses on the oldest member of the Youth Olympic team in Ski Jumping, well, it’s because it’s the most important news of all the competition.

That, and how adorable the Games’ [mascot ](http://www.lillehammer2016.com/images/92fefe8.gif)looks in all the merchandising.

But yeah, Kurt E. Hummel.

Strongest chance for the American team to finally bring something shinier than Bronze in Ski Jumping.

The man--and, okay, he’s not even one year older than Blaine, but _fuck_ , look at him--flies and soars like a majestic…

Alright, so maybe Blaine has the biggest crush on him.

And maybe, just maybe, he has fantasized about “randomly” bumping into him--after the competition, of course, Blaine wouldn’t want to mess with Hummel’s mojo--and the two of them just …

Jumping into the sunset, he supposes.

Blaine didn’t dream that far, too consumed in the idea of actually bumping into Kurt and his lean yet strong body, of getting lost in his blue eyes that always sparkle when he takes off his mask after a landing.

“Next contestant, Hummel, Kurt, United States!”

The applause from the crowd is timid to say the least, and Blaine does his best to compensate for it, waving his little flag as hard as he can.

On the big screen, Blaine can see Kurt getting ready, sliding over the bar to get in position, his eyes already on his target down the slope, his profile as regal as ever, and Blaine’s heart squeezes in his chest as the jumper launches himself.

His long body is one tight ball until he springs off the ramp, skis in a V shape as he is in the air.

Blaine follows him silently, and really, television didn’t give him enough credit.

Kurt Hummel jumping is like watching a rare bird--a black bird, at that, the black suit is _tight_ \--soaring before making a strike.

Kurt seems to be completely parallel to his skis and to the ground--it’s technically perfect, and Blaine cannot fathom the idea of him not making it to the next round, if not the podium.

And that landing.

A perfect [Telemaque](http://www.neosaturn.com/skijumping/SimonLanding.jpg).

Blaine claps and cheers, and the crowd is a little bit more enthusiastic this time around.

Blaine is so focused on the athlete beaming as he waves at the crowd that he doesn’t even notice the journalist getting closer to him in the stand.

“Hi,” the young woman says with a bright smile. “I saw you cheering for Mr. Hummel--you’re a big fan?”

Blaine smiles at her, still wrapped in the “borrowed” adrenaline. “Yes--I can’t wait to see him in the Large Hill--and in the official American team in 2018! That jump was just … wow, it moved me from my seat, it was like being right alongside with him in the air!”

The journalist laughs politely. “Thank you for your enthusiasm, Mr…?”

“Anderson. Blaine Anderson,” he replies, finally spotting the camera behind the journalist, and Blaine waves shyly at the camera.

“Thank you Blaine. As you can see, Glenn,” she says, turning back to the camera and holding an earpiece, “young people are passionate about the Youth Olympics, even in …”

\---

“Kurt, congrats on the Silver!”

Kurt takes a deep breath and turns to look at his competitor. “Congratulations on the Gold, Mike.”

Mike Chang clinks his glass against Kurt’s. “Thanks,” he says with his gentle smirk. “Though from what I heard, you have me beat on the fan side.”

“Uh?”

“You haven’t seen Rosa Hwang’s report on the first round?”

Kurt shakes his head--he tends to stay away from what the journalists or the fans have to say about his performance until he’s done with the competition, and the press conference held him longer than he thought.

He supposes that it was historical, but still--he’s glad it’s over.

“What happened in the report?” he asks nonchalantly, reaching blindly behind him for one of the mini-cupcakes.

_Cheat day be damned._

Mike laughs and claps him on his back. “Well, there is apparently in the crowd a young American man, quite dashing, too, might I add, who seems to think the world of you.”

“R-really?”

“He said that you _moved_ him, Kurt.”

“Oh my.”

“And I think I saw him around the Village,” Mike adds, straightening up. “He was doing some kind of interviews? For his high school’s paper, or something …”

“High school?”

“He looks your age, to be honest.”

“Our age, you mean.”

Mike reaches and playfully pinches Kurt’s cheek. “I always forget we’re the same age.”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, batting his hand away. “And don’t you forget it.”

They keep teasing each other about whether or not they’ll manage to be in South Korea in the official team or not when someone clears their throat behind Kurt, and Mike’s eyes widen.

“Excuse--excuse me, Mr. Hummel?”

Kurt turns around, and his greetings get stuck in his throat.

“H-hi.”

The young man _is_ quite dashing, indeed, with his strong and compact body and his startling eyes and his plump lips and--

“I’m Blaine Anderson, and I was wondering if you … if you had a minute or two to spare for a short interview?”

Mike moves discretely around and gestures and mouths something at Kurt, and Kurt understands that this is his “fan”.

“I’d love to,” he says charmingly, and Mike gives him two thumbs up before crudely dancing around like the big idiot that he is. “Let’s find somewhere more quiet?”

Blaine smiles crookedly and in a bold gesture that makes Kurt’s heart beat a whole lot faster--a lot like when he’s about to jump, actually--, he takes Kurt’s hand. “Come with me,” he says conspiratorially, “I know a shortcut to the terrace.”

(And if Mike has to distract one or two journalists from spotting the two young men talking and getting closer into the night by planting a massive kiss on Tina Cohen-Chang, the American skater (and his secret fiancée), well, that’s just good sportsmanship)


	2. Landing

“So, how was Norway?”

Blaine can’t help the dopey smile on his face when his mom asks the generic question, and he doesn’t even bother hiding it when he turns to face her.

“Norway was really good, Mom,” he says, pulling the [snow globe ](https://mallofnorway.com/cache/b/a/3/a/6/ba3a6a1d121b7577b2261ccd7360a2bfe7c2e07a.jpeg?1447151383)out of his bag for her collection on the mantle. “And i, um … I met someone.”

“Really?” she says, patting his cheek. “That’s fantastic, Bee! Another ski aficionado?”

“You could say that,” Blaine replies with a short snort. “He’s–he’s actually on the team.”

“The Young Olympian team?” she repeats, her eyes widening. “Are you sure? Or was it his pick-up line?” she adds, her brows knitting into a frown.

“I’m quite sure, Mom.”

“Then I’m really happy for you.”

Blaine can tell that she doesn’t believe him. That’s alright.

“He’s supposed to come and pick me up for coffee tomorrow.”

“Is he from Ohio too? How nice.”

Were he any younger, she would probably pat his head condescendingly.

“Yes, Mom. It’s Kurt Hummel.”

This time, Blaine sees the eyeroll from his mother. “Oh honey …”

And he can hear the pity in her voice, too.

“I know how much you like that young man,” his mom says, “are you sure you didn’t just … imagine thing? Jetlag can be pretty brutal, you know …”

Oh, it’s not like Blaine hasn’t wondered that himself, if he’s being honest. 

Wondered if it was all in his imagination, the very detailed fantasy of him meeting Kurt and Kurt being even … _more_ , than he seemed on T.V., and Kurt finding _Blaine_  so interesting that he couldn’t pull away from him all evening.

Wondered if he imagined the soft press of Kurt’s lips against his own, the pressure of Kurt’s strong hands on his waist …

Wondered if he dreamed Kurt shyly offering to take him out on a proper date once they were back in their common homestate.

But he has Kurt’s phone number in his phone, along with an adorable [selfie](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/b1/e0/92/b1e092fe0660311be263f10e26072702.jpg), so no, he knows that it all happened.

And he might need a moment to kick his feet up and squeal into a pillow.

“I’m quite sure, Momma,” he repeats, picking up his bag to go to his room. “You’ll see.”

—

The following morning, Blaine nervously arranged his hair and his outfit while he can hear his mom fussing around the kitchen.

He can smell chocolate chip pancakes, and he’s pretty sure she made his favorite breakfast meal to soften the blow once he realizes that there is no Kurt Hummel coming to get him.

When the doorbell rings, they both look up like prairie dogs, but Blaine beams at her as he goes to open the door.

And here he is.

Kurt looks even more amazing in his “civilian” clothes than he did in his suit (or in his jumping suit, but Blaine tries not to dwell too much on it–for propriety reasons). “Hey,” he says softly, a pink hue to his cheeks as he looks at Blaine.

“H-hey,” Blaine replies, a bit breathless.

“And you must be Mrs. Anderson,” Kurt adds, looking over Blaine’s shoulder. “Kurt Hummel, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

Behind him, his mom makes a noise akin to a goldfish before reaching to shake Kurt’s hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Hummel. Congratulations on taking the American team to a higher level, you did us all proud,” she gushes, and Kurt glances at Blaine with a crooked smile.

 _Yeah_ , Blaine thinks and he hopes his face says it all, _the apple didn’t fall far from that bush-tree_.

“T’was my pleasure, ma’am,” Kurt replies. “Now, if you don’t mind me stealing Blaine away …?”

She nearly shoves Blaine in Kurt’s arms. “Of course not! Bring him back for dinner though,” she adds with a coquettish sort of giggle.

“Will do,” Kurt says with a jaunty little salute, before putting an hand on the small of Blaine’s back. “She’s …”

“Yeah.”

“She cares about you,” Kurt adds, opening the door to his car and leaning in to kiss Blaine’s cheek. “That’s sweet.”

“She was in shock,” Blaine replies once Kurt is seated next to him, and he tentatively reaches to squeeze Kurt’s hand for a moment. “I think she didn’t believe me when I told her about you.”

“She thought you made me up?”

“Nah, she knows you exist–she’s the one who got me so interested in Winter Olympics in the first place after all,” Blaine corrects Kurt, watching him drive away–and really, he could watch Kurt do pretty much anything–, “but I think she thought I had … imagined our encounter.”

“And build a nice little fantasy of the encounter being … more, than just that?”

“That too.”

“She shouldn’t be so surprised,” Kurt says and Blaine observes the way the blush spreading on his neck betrays the nonchalance in his tone. “You could charmed anybody off their feet.”

“I’d rather sweep just one person of their skis,” Blaine replies, half-teasing and half-serious.

Kurt freezes, and his blush intensifies before a small smile stretches his lips. “Is that–is that so?”

“Definitely.”

“Consider me swept then.”

“That easy to woo?” Blaine says, letting out a short laugh of relief. “All my plans down the ski slope.”

Kurt joins him in his laughter. “Just because I’m swept doesn’t mean you can’t woo me.”

“Good.”

“Good.”


End file.
